The Twelve Stones Prophecies
by Neema
Summary: Evil did not begin with Lord Voldemort nor will it end with him. Prophets ranging from an ancient priestess to the current Sybill Trelawney foretell a darkness greater than all others. A final, twelfth prophet holds the key to overcoming Voldemort and the


**The Twelve Stones Prophecies  
Prologue: The Priestess of Amon **

_by Neema_

~~~

_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,  
I will fear no evil_

-- from Psalm 23  
The Holy Bible: King James Version

~~~ ****

The Western Desert  
Egypt  
812 B.C.  
Midsummer

She ran without stopping, without looking back. The Egyptian sands beneath her feet burned but she continued on without slackening her pace. 

_"Amuenet, it is time. You must cast yourself into the desert, and let yourself be at her mercy. The Egyptian sands are harsh but Amon will guide you and not let you perish. You go at dawn."_

Amuenet had wandered many hours and the sun was now at its zenith. Shimmering waves rose from the sands, making her eyes grow sore. She was weary but she knew she must keep going. 

_"You may not return until Amon has come to you."_

"But how will I know? He appears in many forms."

"That I cannot tell you. I am certain you will find your way home when the time is right.

"Master," Amuenet bowed her head respectfully to the wizened priest before her. "I have but one more question."

The head priest nodded, his jeweled necklace swaying lightly beneath his white garment.

"Why must I go?"

"It will be discussed upon your return. Good luck, Amuenet. You shall be named Priestess of Amon for this quest. Rest now, my daughter."

A violent wind began, making the sand rise and dance around her. Her eyes streamed and finally she slowed, squinting through the thickening curtains of sand. Very suddenly, the winds died down and Ameneut found herself in a deep dune.

Panicking now, she clawed at the sides of the dune but to no avail. She was trapped. Exahausted from the effort, she fell and did not rise.

~~~

The priests of the Temple of Amon knelt in a semicircle in the temple's courtyard. The sky was darkening and the air became cool but not one shivered. They stared unblinkingly at a statue of the god they served, waiting. The silence was only broken by the sound of the nearby river.

The head priest, Amonhotep, frowned. "I wonder if we sent the right girl?" he mused out loud, disturbing the deep reverie of all present.

"We have all had the dream," murmured one of the others. "A dream of twelve does not lie and all twelve of us have dreamt of the girl's gift of divine communication. She is the one and she will discover the secrets of the gods."

"She is too young! We might have waited--"

"Amonhotep. You know as well as we do that she must discover Amon in her twelfth year or we will forever be ignorant of any knowledge that may have been imparted."

Amenhotep's frown grew deeper. "Perhaps we are not meant to know of the divine."

"Do not be foolish! She will make us as gods if Amon will speak to her! The dream tells all. The first daughter of the twelfth high priest of Amon shall know Amon as no other mortal shall. . . ." 

"And he shall impart unto her secrets of the divine and the dead and alter presents and futures. I know. My recollection is just as vivid as yours," Amenhotep snapped.

The small pool in the courtyard suddenly began to stir though there was no breeze. The water swirled faster and faster, rising to form a pillar coming straight up from the pool. The pillar burst with a deep roar and soaked the entire priesthood. 

"Amon has been found," the other priest said softly.

~~~

Amenuet woke several hours later. It was freezing. Darkness had fallen over the desert, with only the starry sky providing light. Ameneut sat up and began to cry softly. She was only twelve years of age and her courage was finally failing her. She had always trusted her father but wondered if he had cast her out to her death this time.

She did not notice the figure her tears were forming in the sand. 

_Dry your eyes, child._

Startled, Ameneut stopped crying at once and looked around for the source of the deep, almost musical voice.

_Why are you sent to exile?_

This time Ameneut saw the damp impression of a face at her feet. It was a strong, young face but seemed almost ancient in its gravity.

"I know not," she answered truthfully."I think I was to learn something. . . from you."

_Sleep, child. I will tell you what you must know. Take this in your hand and sleep._

The face melted back into the sand and a shining, black stone took its place. Ameneut took the tiny stone, clutching it tightly in her left hand. A deep sleep took her immediately.

~~~ 

**excerpt from _Sorcerer's Lore Book_  
Hogwarts Library  
restricted section**

It was said that she never awoke from her slumber and perished the instant the divine revelations came to her. It overpowered her, the sheer magnitude and greatness of divine knowledge, even in the form of dreams, and her heart stopped beating. 

But let us not forget Amon's stone. The obsidian rock, perfectly spherical and no larger than a human eye, was no ordinary stone. It held a power greater than any known to mortals, greater than any found in the Earth's lands. 

The girl's body vanished into the sands but the stone became a well, made of the same obsidian rock, that marked the spot she fell. Twelve shining stones gleamed from the edge of the well and a dense oasis enclosed the spot. 

The origin of the stones is unknown though it is told that whoever drinks from the well obtains all the wisdom of the world and even from beyond. Also power, a power that could alter the universe. 

Though many have tried, none have ever been able to find the Well of Revelations. Learned witches and wizards do not believe in its existence but still others insist that only a certain 'chosen' few have the ability to seek it successfully. 

~~~


End file.
